


The Dance

by cattlaydee



Series: i'll make a million mistakes [4]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton is George Washington's Biological Son, Awkward Conversations, Gen, Washingdad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 11:10:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10385376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cattlaydee/pseuds/cattlaydee
Summary: General Washington's professional relationship with Hamilton was generally productive and smooth; while they may have often disagreed, rank allowed for a clear understanding of boundaries between the two of them.But if Washington wanted to pursue a more familiar rapport? That required somewhat of a more gentle touch.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just a fun drabble I threw together a week or so ago. This occurs early in 1780, so i'm skipping over a few other parts of this i'm going to post in time, but I just enjoyed writing it so here you go. In this, Alexander is aware of his paternity.

**February, 1780**

The front door to the home clapped shut in a way that made George Washington wonder if Billy Lee had failed to latch it properly. As he looked up from his desk in the front parlor, he spied that it was not a wayward wind that had caused the interruption, but one of his aides coming in from the cold. He sat up straighter with a soft frown, for he'd believed them retired by now, and watched as the younger man brushed a hand through his hair and shook out his cloak.

 _Hamilton_.

He felt the now too familiar swoop in his stomach at the sight of this particular aide. In the years since he'd divulged their...connection, their relationship had fluctuated. Often, in times when they were under greater constraints than usual and there was little time for deliberation, Hamilton would offer suggestions to address the situation and respectfully accept whatever Washington had decided.

In times when things were not as urgent and there was time for consultation...

He looked down at his half finished letter to Martha. It was difficult when Hamilton would become frustrated with him. Most of it George believed borne from his lack of an assignment to a command. Much of it was because of how reserved George knew himself to be on the surface, of how careful he was when making a decision, but in the end, he and Alexander usually ended up being of the same mind and it was fine.

But then there were moments...

Most of the time it was only a word, or a tone taken in private quarters that may otherwise warrant a warning of insubordination. Sometimes it was a look---something like betrayal or anger. The looks were the worst.

But those were few and far between. And, knowing how it made Hamilton feel to address their relationship, it was never truly brought up. So they danced this way and that around each other, and ignored this thing that hung between them.

In the foyer, Hamilton was looping his cloak on the stand there and turned towards where he sensed a presence. He moved cautiously, uncertain of whom he’d find there, but seemed to relax when Washington looked back up at that moment and offered a soft smile as a greeting. Hamilton walked into the parlor, settling at attention in front of the desk.

"At ease, Colonel." Washington sighed, and bent back down to his letter, eager to alleviate any tension in the air. Alexander did as he was told and relaxed, settling into an easy stance. He nodded at the parchment, resting his arms behind him.

"Anything I can be of assistance with, your Excellency?"

"No." Washington responded. "Just a letter to my wife." He looked back up, expression indiscernible. He would have to be cautious here. "It's late, Hamilton. I assumed you to already be retired for the evening."

The young Colonel tensed. Washington held in a sigh.

"Was it expected for me to be, sir?" He sounded defensive, as if he felt scrutinized and now, George let the sigh be known. He set down the quill and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him.

"Of course not, Alexander. It was just an observation."

Hamilton examined him, perhaps skeptical. He shrugged. "Just a social call. Nothing of concern."

"You have no need to explain your comings and goings to me, Colonel." Washington replied simply, even if he may have wanted to ask more. He had overheard the other aides earlier in the day when Alexander had left, how they cajoled him and made noises bordering on inappropriate. He had ignored it, and acted as though he had not heard, knowing how Hamilton bristled at his every attempt for a more familiar relationship. He did not _need_ to know where the boy was during his free time, he did not _need_ to know if Alexander fancied one sister or the other, he did not _need_ to know if he was planning a proposal. There was no requirement for Hamilton to report any of it, in an official capacity, and their relationship was not one that had Alexander confiding in him, such as Lafayette felt comfortable doing.

He did not _need_ to know any of it.

He just...

...he _wanted_ to.

"I...appreciate your leniency, your Excellency. If you are at all concerned with my tasks, I can assure you all of the missives were completed before I left for supper and I had intended to review them one last time before they are to go out at first light."

"Colonel Hamilton, my concern does not lie in the requirements of your position. Only in your well being."

The General could see as the words were spoken that he had erred as Alexander scowled. But they could not be taken back, and so he kept speaking, careful to keep his expression placid.

"That is to say, sir, that if you fall ill from being out in the weather or are sniped errantly by a wandering enemy soldier, I will be without one of my best clerks and what would the war do then, Colonel Hamilton?"

Washington didn't miss his subordinate's rolling eyes. "Sir, I imagine it would continue on as it did before I joined your staff."

Washington held back a scoff, and decided against reminding the boy that it had been going quite poorly at that particular juncture. Instead, he chose the chance at another route. "And what of the young lady you've been wooing?"

It was a gamble, but George had always had a secret weakness for the game. Because every now and then, the gamble paid off. Alexander flushed at the comment, having been so easily intercepted when he apparently believed himself to be unassuming.

"I...suppose...well, sir, she would..."

"Relax, Alexander," he reassured with a hint of humor. "I only mean for you to be mindful. Especially if you are to avoid Tilghman or Harrison finally persuading the sentry to change the evening passphrase, hm?"

The tint of the young man's face was unmistakably pink in the dim light.

"Of course. Sir." Hamilton cleared his throat. "If I may, sir. May I be dismissed, if you have no further need of me?"

Ah, well. At least he'd made the attempt. "Of course, Colonel Hamilton. I will see you at dawn." Washington pulled to center the parchment once more and bent his head. "Although, there is one last thing..."

The young man's footsteps stopped abruptly in their stride toward the hall, and clicked sharply as he turned to face the General at attention once more. His tone hinted at exasperation. "Yes, your Excellency?"

Washington didn't look up from his writing, dipping the quill in his inkwell gently and began to write once more. "General Schuyler is quite fond of fine French Claret, if my memory serves me correct. You may be wise to consult with the Marquis and see if you could barter a bottle, if you are going to continue your visits to his homestead."

His brows arched as he spared a pointed look up at the Colonel, a low gaze through his lashes to see that Hamilton was looking at him, dumbfounded. His body seemed stock still and he appeared to be at a loss for words. When he realized what Washington had meant by the comment, he relaxed and ducked his head.

"I will keep that in mind. Sir. I...appreciate, the hint."

"The Schuyler girl is a sweetheart, to be true." He was writing again, looking away from Hamilton. "Don't muck it up."

And then, as rare as it was to encounter for his forbearance regarding their situation, he was rewarded.

Alexander laughed and smiled, the look of a smitten young man. "I am all too aware, your Excellency, but i will take care to heed your advice. I promise, I will do my utmost to make all of you proud.” He scratched at his ear, dipping his head bashfully. “Thank you, sir."

Washington looked back up at him, one last time for the night. “Goodnight, Hamilton. Get some rest. There is much ahead of us.”

“Of course, sir.”

And then he was gone, the stairs creaking as he jogged up to the rooms he shared with the other aides. Washington sighed, running a hand over his hair.

 _It was difficult, this dance,_ he thought to himself. _But by God, sometimes was it ever worth it._

**Author's Note:**

> I actually think it may have been required for soldiers to get permission to marry back in the day but for fics sake! Also Lafayette had not quite yet come back from France.
> 
> I have a [tumblr ](http://cattlaydee.tumblr.com). Come say hi!


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